tree of light

IMAGINING the first holiday tree, it must have been the lighted ones that really touched the primal spirit of our collective psyche. Like the first magical fire that danced in front of man's eyes, the addition of light brought the sparkle and wonder alive. There is no doubt that the decorated tree has become one of the most beloved and well-known symbols of life during the holidays.

AN ANCIENT custom, the decorated tree has played an important part of winter celebrations for centuries. Whether it was the Pagans honoring the spirit of nature with festivals incorporating decorated trees; the Vikings believing that the cold darkness of winter would end with the light of spring returning, as long as there was an evergreen around; the Druids of ancient England and France using fruit and candles to decorate oak trees—honoring the gods of harvest; or the Romans celebrating Saturnalia by arranging trinkets and candles on trees—the ritual of decorating a tree is stored deeply into the collective consciousness of our holiday celebrations.

IF  IT WAS the patron Saint of Germany, Saint Boniface chopping down the Oak of Thor in a stage-managed confrontation with the old gods and "heathen" tribes—and claiming the small fir tree growing up in the roots of this oak as a new symbol of Christianity; the initiator of the Protestant Reformation, Martin Luther being inspired to light an evergreen with candles to illustrate to his family, the twinkling of stars through the fir trees at night; or the German Christians adopting the evergreen indoors during the new Christian holiday, the decorated tree is a ritual that represents an inspired collective of ideas and beliefs.

THE TRADITION spread throughout Europe, culminating in the first real media attention for the custom when engravings of Prince Albert, who was German, along with his wife Queen Victoria decorated the first Christmas tree at Windsor Castle in 1841 and it was written up in the London Times replete with an engraving (see below for a later illustration in color). They decorated their famous tree with candies, gingerbread, fruits, nuts and candles to their children's delight.

GERMAN IMMIGRANTS came to America in the 1830's, bringing Christmas ornaments with them. Most Americans still considered the Christmas tree a heretical symbol of Paganism. One of the first public displays of a Christmas tree was set up by German settlers in Pennsylvania. But it wasn't until the late 1800's that Americans began adopting the irresistible custom of the Christmas tree.

EVEN  IF none of these legends are entirely true, the origin of the decorated tree in modern times has many connections to Germany where the first glass ornaments—humble representations of evergreen pine cones were made. Even in parts of Germany where evergreen trees were scarce, families would build a Christmas pyramid—a simple tiered structure decorated with branches and candles. Pagan or Christian, the act of decorating a tree, for whatever reason, resonates with most of the world's population. 

CHRISTMAS  TREES were then decorated with nuts, apples, cookies, strung and colored popcorn, and candles while European ornament collections were begun. Electricity brought strung-together lights in the early 20th century. The idea of  the lighted tree spread as quickly as electricity and Christmas trees became a household fixture during the holidays. And in communities across the globe large outdoor displays of holiday trees and lights have been adopted over the years—the world lighting up with the magic of the winter season.

ON  THIS  ELEVENTH day of September, we in America still have a lot of candles to light and a lot of thoughts and prayers to be answered, either by God or by our own actions. And it's not lost on me, but my eleventh blog follower, after resistance to the chaos he finds in my life, has finally realized that this blog is my way of digging through  the rubble of a passion to collect and making something of it. Thank you Mr. Jon Chavez for being patient with me and being the brightest light in my life. The number eleven has truly become significant for me (a time prompt from spirit guardians or not). I'm making a wish before I extinguish any flames. 

SPARKLE AND LIGHT | Pine cones—long symbols of fertility and even eternal life—were some of the first German glass ornaments made for use on the holiday tree. I gathered my collection to decorate the most perfectly-shaped fir tree I could find (photos above). Simply adorned with a widely-varied, but singular collection of old and new pine cone decorations, this tree evokes a timeless historical elegance. It is draped with an antiqued tinsel garland from Bethany Lowe Designs (above, right). The candles held atop the trees branches in metal pine cone-shaped clips from Germany create a beautiful flickering warm light unparalleled by modern electric lights. The lighting of the tree became an occasion that year (2007) and was a pure celebration of the origin(s) of the decorated tree. The finial glass tree topper was made for the brilliant Thomas O'Brien retromodern ornament collection for Target several years ago.

©2009 DARRYL MOLAND | ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
collecting and styling by Darryl Moland, photography by Jon Rou

HISTORY AND MYSTERY | In these two illustrations, Martin Luther is shown to be one of the first to place candles on the branches of the evergreen tree brought inside (above, left) and the English monarchy that was Victoria and Albert are credited for popularizing the decorated tree in 1841 (above, right).

song of (her) life

A bird does not sing because it has an answer. 
It sings because it has a song.
                                                —Chinese Proverb

I'M   F A S C I N A T E D  with birds. This spring, I hung three bird feeders in a dying tree to bring some life to it. They bring a myriad of birds to dine just outside my dining room window.

I'M   N O T   S U R E  whether it was when crows weirdly gathered on my mother's hospital room window ledge while she was on her deathbed, but ever since then I've been especially aware of birds whenever I see them. I've always loved their happy nature and it's obvious they have an uncanny sense of their surroundings in possessing a profound sense of the natural order of things.

T H E Y   B R I N G  a cheerful song to anyone who takes the time to listen. My mother gave our family the song of her life. In doing so, she gave us all an authentic sense of ourselves. My sister and I were at her bedside when she died. I was holding mother's left hand and my sister held her right hand. It was a heart-wrenching, but profound experience watching her take her last breath—the woman who was there for both of us for our first breath. I've never felt such a desperate loss and uplifting sense of peace at the same time, but I did that day (July 10, 2005). I felt as if my world had been turned inside-out and upside-down. I'll always remember my mother telling me when she knew something I thought she didn't. She would say, "A little bird told me so." I believed it. Now I know—birds must be protectors of the soul.

M E S S E N G E R S  of love and harbingers of good things to come, glass birds have become a universal symbol of happiness and joy when placed on the decorated tree. Few glassblowing studios make them well because they are one of the more difficult ornaments to make. You'll find them with actual feathers for tails, but in Germany, their tails were originally made from bundles of spun glass. Both types have their own charm. More often than not, they are attached to springed clips so you can position them atop branches of the tree, rather than hanging below. This makes them very useful in composing a beautiful tree.

C O N V I N C E D  they are our protectors, I think birds can foretell things to come—both good and bad. Imagine if you always had a bird's-eye view of life. No matter which they bring, they always give us joyful songs of life. Even though we don't know a word they are saying, we understand them to be wise creatures, indeed.

A N D  T O  T H E  women who raised me—my mother and my sister (shorty momma)—I know you're out there—I love you both with all of my heart and soul.

HAPPY HARBINGERS | These three bird ornaments were bought as a boxed set, from Michael's Stores, Inc. (above, right). They are attached to a dead stem from the tree which I hung bird feeders this spring (left), which decorate the tree just outside my dining room window.

©2009 DARRYL MOLAND | ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

collecting, photography and styling by Darryl Moland

magical, mysterious mushrooms

I N   R E M E M B E R I N G  the first time I had mushroom tea, my friends didn't know whether or not their brew would be strong enough to have an effect. But we all drank some of it, and went along our way to the beach where they kept their catamaran. Just as we were launching it into the emerald green water of the Gulf of Mexico at Seaside, Florida (the idyllic town where The Truman Show was filmed), everything suddenly became indescribably more vibrant on this beautifully sunny and warm day. Riding the waves, the emerald-clear water we glided over was gradually dotted with beige, pink, and purple jellyfish and dolphins swam playfully along with us—no lie! I have never felt so at one with nature. We were giddy with laughter and excitement—and it is still one of the most vivid sensory moments of my life. It was like being in a movie (although it was years before the The Truman Show was filmed there). 

O N E   F R I E N D  who was with our group that day, John (A.J.) Prescott died this summer at the young age of 45. Again, I must be channeling some sort of energy from the many loved ones who have passed on in the last few years (too many). All their love still lives inside of me and I have to let it out now that they're gone—by doing something that is cathartic. A.J. and I were soulmates—friends that could always pick up where we left off. He was always bringing people together in magical ways—he introduced me to Lowell, who I spent six years together with in a wonderful relationship (still great friends). A.J. packed more into his 45 years that most people do in three lifetimes, so I can't be sad he is gone. He lived his life full-out, the envy of many of his friends he traveled without, because we encumbered ourselves with the stuff of life—he didn't. He saw places in the world I only dream about and had many experiences in being totally in touch with mother Earth as I have already described. Just maybe he had something to do with what I relate to you next.

A F T E R   I T   R A I N E D  all night and a good part of the day today, I noticed three unusually large mushrooms had popped up in the grass just outside my front door. I have no idea whether these are a kind you can ingest, so I wouldn't recommend them—you've got to know what you're doing if you harvest wild mushrooms—many are poisonous. Just an hour before, I had been talking to my friend Brandon about not knowing what to do for my next blog post. And when I got home, seeing the mushrooms there, an idea just "fell out of the sky" (ancient Egyptians believed that mushrooms were sons of gods, sent riding to earth on thunderbolts)—imagine that! Inspired to use the real mushrooms along with two unique mushroom ornaments I bought last year, I suddenly knew what to write about. Riding in on a lightning bolt—it all came together—lucky indeed! 

M U S H R O O M   O R N A M E N T S  have long been a symbol of luck as a tree decoration. Glass tree ornaments are a German invention. Christoph Müller and Hans Greiner set up Germany's first glassworks in 1597 in the small town of Lauscha. Most commonly, these lucky mushrooms are blown with white stems and red caps dotted with white. You'll find airbrushed spun cotton mushrooms also, but I thought these modern fabric-and-glitter covered wire frame ornaments were uniquely beautiful. And lucky for me, I knew where they were in my unorganized stash.

M A G I C   A N D   M Y S T E R Y  have become an incredibly electrifying force in creating this blog. I find myself "in the zone" when I'm doing it—so I know I'm on an inspirational path. But, the serendipity in life only comes when you are in-the-moment. You feel connected to a collective consciousness—something much bigger than you. It's nice to invite it in. I'll remember my friend A.J. whenever I hang a mushroom on a tree and I'll invite all the wonderful memories of him inside. He was truly a flower child born too late for that era. I'll never forget him. He was never one to be usurped by the status quo—he lived as far off-the-grid as possible. The Times, They are A-Changin', for sure. I can only hope the love and light he gave, has been absorbed into a greater good for the world to heal itself.

RAINBOW'S FRIEND | John (A.J.) Prescott (above, left) was truly a pot of gold to everyone who knew him.

MAGIC MUSHROOMS | The three mushrooms I found that sprung up during an overnight rain (top, right), with two glittered fabric-covered wire mushroom ornaments. The beaded and sequined felt ball ornament with a metallic braided trim rounded out the photo (all from Anthropologie, 2008).

©2009 DARRYL MOLAND | ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
collecting, photography and styling by Darryl Moland

U P D A T E 

Who knew? Bob Dylan even has Christmas in the Heart. His 47th album (left) will be released October 13th, with all the royalties going to Feeding America (and two international charities)—in perpetuity. Now, that is what I call the Christmas spirit! I've never been a big Bob Dylan fan (except for his lyrics), but I'll be buying this one. I stumbled upon the news of it when I was confirming that all my post links were operable. The times have changed, indeed. Serendipity at work . . . again!